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For years I’ve lived with the fear of someone finding out who I really am. Who my parents are. All secrets that I’ve buried and hidden in the deepest recesses of my being. The child I was back then is a stranger to me, exactly as I planned when I moved to New York City at seventeen. I’ve successfully hidden her from me like it was somebody else’s childhood rather than reality. I’m not ready to admit that child was me.
“Is this kind of thing common? It sounds pretty fucked up. I mean, who writes that shit to someone they don’t even know?” Logan’s voice sounds strained.
“A lot of people feel they have the right to say what the hell they want on social media just because I’m in the public eye.” I’m not only trying to convince Logan that the message means nothing more, but myself too. Horrible messages or comments online are common, that’s for sure. But a text message to my personal cell number has shaken me.
“How often?” he demands and there’s now a razor-sharp edge to his words. He’s angry on my behalf and I feel my chilled bones thaw a little. I don’t feel so alone.
“Often enough.” I drop my head into my hands and mumble through my fingers, “I know I shouldn’t let this kind of thing bother me, but it’s hard not to.” My mind races to find excuses for what must look like an overreaction to Logan. I’m scrabbling about to cover up the truth in a way I haven’t had to do for a long time.
Maybe I should have told Katie, Sarah, or even Logan about my family years ago. There have been plenty of opportunities and I know they would have kept my secret. But then I never wanted to relive the fear which would have been part of the retelling. The fear that is threatening to consume me now. Fear that everything I have worked so hard for could be destroyed by one person telling the world my secret.
Logan’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. The heat from his touch warms this one patch of skin, but not enough for it to seep through to my blood and flow to my ice-cold heart.
“Allie, talk to me. How can I help you?”
“I don’t know that you can?” I peel one hand from my face to tilt my head and look up at him. Then in a determinedly firm voice, I say, “I’ll be okay, I just need a little time to calm myself down ... I think I’ll go have a hot bath.” I stand up and his hand drops to his side. “Thank you for offering to help though. It means a lot.”
I stretch up onto my toes to kiss his cheek. It’s the briefest of touches, but my lips sizzle from the contact. I’ve had less reaction from a hot chili sauce on my lips than the brush of Logan’s cheek.
One look up at his shocked face confirms that he felt it too. It was only meant to be a simple friendly gesture of thanks. Instead, it shifted something inside me that feels like a seismic wave of want.
“I’ll see you later,” I mumble, then practically run from the room. Away from Logan.
I want to curl up in a tight ball and hide under my bed like I did back when I was fourteen. But I’m not that same shattered child anymore; I’m an adult with a business to think about. I’ll allow myself the time for a hot bath to resettle my emotions but first, I pick up my cell, delete the message, and block the number. Wiping it away and hopefully with it the residual fear which is still a thin ribbon flowing through my blood.
Chapter eleven
Logan
Fierce anger still courses through my veins and has me wanting to pound something. Preferably the asshole who sent that text message to Allie this morning. I mean, what the fuck?!
For the last hour, I’ve sat at my desk in my office, wishing physical harm on the unknown gutless person who sent the text.
While the workday was busy with back-to-back meetings, now that most people have left for the day, it’s too quiet. This is the time of day I normally look forward to but not today. Instead, I keep remembering how dejected Allie looked hunched over the counter.
Regardless of her words and completely transparent attempts at trying to brush off the impact the message had, I could see the fear shrouding her green eyes. It was like the bright light that usually makes them shine like the sea-green waters of Florida, had been switched off. The color diluted to a grayish green by unshed tears that I know she was forcing herself to hold in.
My fist clenches tightly around the stress ball I keep handy on my desk. Another of Blake’s stupid joke gifts. If only he knew how often I grabbed hold of it, especially today. Although, who the fuck ever feels better after squeezing a stupid ball of fluorescent orange rubber? I throw it hard against the far wall of my office and get more satisfaction from the resounding thud when it hits the wall. Maybe I’ve been doing this stress ball thing wrong all along.
I don’t know why I’m still sitting at my desk and not on my way home to make sure Allie is okay. She looked unusually vulnerable this morning and I’m worried about her. There has to be more going on behind her reaction to the text message this morning. Sure, it sounded like a targeted threat, but as she said, she’s dealt with trolls before. I’ve seen it myself, being part of a well-known family in this city, there are always people out there looking to drag you down. But why did this text cause her so much pain?
I guess sitting here at my desk isn’t going to answer that question. No, only Allie has the answers. Deciding to go home, I shut down my computer. I’m not getting any work done so I might as well. Maybe when I know Allie is okay, I’ll be able to catch up on the things I didn’t finish today. But as I’m nearly finished packing up, there’s a knock at my door, and in walks Jason.
“Leaving already? Isn’t it like four hours too early for you to be leaving?” he asks.
I look at my watch and see it’s only just before six. “Do you want something? Because last time I checked the HR rules it wasn’t a crime to go home on time,” I grumble, then take my suit jacket from the back of my chair and slip my arms into the sleeves.
Jason just smiles at me. He’s borne the brunt of my moods plenty of times in the past, and just brushes them off as commonplace. “I was going to see if you wanted to grab something to eat in a couple of hours. But obviously you have more pressing matters to get home to.” He looks down and brushes some invisible lint from his trouser leg. “How is Allie by the way?”
“Asshole,” I accuse before picking up my bag and walking to the door. I hold it open, waiting for him to leave ahead of me.
He unfolds his body from my visitor’s chair like he has all the time in the world, then strolls toward me. “Let’s continue this riveting conversation tomorrow night over a drink. Have a good evening.” I watch him wander off down the corridor toward Dana’s office. His soft chuckle is the only sound disturbing the silence of the empty executive floor.
***
A little while later, I’m walking in my front door and throwing my keys into the bowl on the hall table, on top of Allie’s.
She’s home, good.
